I Still Wish You Were Here
by Please.Insert.Name
Summary: Grief has many sounds, both heard an unheard. This is a glimpse at Aaron Hotchner's.


The casket was being lowered into the earth. The gentle thud as it reached the bottom had a sense of finality, and the scatter of dirt as he covered his ex-wife in her mahogany prison barely covered the sounds of grieving going on around him.

Grief has many sounds, both heard an unheard. It can be silent, the steady stream of tears down the crumpled up faces of loved ones. It can be the rustle of tissues as those tears are hastily tried to be stemmed. It can be the occasional sniff of a young boy by your side, his eyes watery, but his jaw set in a line not unlike his father's.

Or it can be the sound of violence, as you pummel the man who did this into the carpet.

He could still feel the blood on his hands, dried and flaking from remaining on them so long. He could remember the feel of Haley's hair, the smell of her shampoo as he held her, hoping feverishly that she was alive, and that he couldn't feel the remains of her shattered skull. He could remember the immense relief as he found Jack 'working the case', their little boy physically unharmed, and some proof of their relationship still alive for him to remember her by.

He noticed now that Jack whimpered when he had nightmares. Haley used to do the same, and as he heard the cries of the young boy, his heart ached for them both.

He never thought it was possible for the human heart to be able to handle so much pain, but even as a child he had been amazed at his pain tolerance. He probably had his father to thank for him not having fallen apart. Well, not completely anyway.

His team stood behind him, his anguish for once on display for all to see. He never thought he would get through his speech, his articulation gone, strangled by the pain that had it's grip so tight around him he thought his ribs might snap from the pressure.

He could look each of them in the eye. Worry was the common emotion, it's dancing partner usually deep sadness in their eyes. They gave him watery smiles, and Dave nodded slightly, a small smile on his face as if to say _'Well done, you've gotten through it.'_

But he hadn't gotten through it. If he had, then he could look Haley's parents in the eye too, but as it was, he couldn't even glance at them.

He knew what he would see anyway. Anger burning so strongly he would be singed even from this distance. Then there would come pain, a pain that he had caused by not being a good enough Agent. For not being a good enough husband to begin with.

Bile rose in his throat, invading his mouth, and he swallowed harshly.

He deserved this. He had wanted too much. The cookie-cutter life with the cookie-cutter family and career. Unfortunately the cutter for the family and career wasn't the same, and edits had to be made.

Haley's death was just another example of his selfishness.

His single-mindedness robbed his son of a mother, his ex in-laws of a daughter. It had so many ramifications for other people, people who shouldn't have suffered to begin with, whereas he himself only felt a fraction of that, his ties long ago having been severed. Theoretically that is.

How would they know that each night he craved the warmth of her body. He missed waking up to her, the light when the rest of his world was dark, the one person he knew untainted by human filth other than Jack. Many times he had reached for the phone, going to dial the number to the house that had once been theirs to share. Even now he looked at his phone, expecting a texts from her asking if he would be late home, or if he had a case.

They wouldn't know that, however. All they would see was the stoic FBI Agent, landed with a son that many suspected he had never wanted, and burying the woman he had chose his career over which ultimately led to her death.

Shaking his head, he felt the tears run silently down his face, and brushing them away quickly, he realised everyone had already gone inside.

He was alone, and, deep down, he knew he deserved it.

* * *

_A/N: This turned out a lot angstier than I had intended - that's what googling depressing songs gets you I guess! I would appreciate it if you would review, angst isn't my best genre to write._

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds. *sigh*_


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